News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1887-02-10
ALONE WITH THE DEAD.
Midnight Watch of Mother Over Her De
parted Loved Ono.

The lamp burns dim in yon humble
room; strange shadows lie on the white
washed walls. Ah the dead is here
the dead Cold, so cold; a tiny form,
warm life forever gone from the bonnie
eyes. The dead alone, is there none to
keep the night watch, none whose love
shall bar out all things Of terror
There's a bended head and sobs of
agony. The mother, ah, the poor, be-
reaved broken hearted mother, alone in
the midnight with her darling dead
Fingers of the living touch lovingly.
tenderly, the wee haads; the dear, dear
baby fingers once played all atangIe
with sunbeams. Lips of the living
press the waxen face of the death. Yes,
! each ont your af8,,ss>-,s,s1S mother; gaze
with eyes of yearpfhg Sn the paIlid
brow. So white! so white! touch with
quivering mouth the rings of pale gold
hair. She is yours now-yours to mourn.
Never again will sinless fingers futter
against your weary breast Yours to-
night To morrow but little mound in
the old churchyard.
9-10-11-12! Do you hear2 That
faint jingle of midnight chime bells?
Above moaning winds and raindrops
beating rings "Home. Sweet Home :"
Above tempest's passion, aye, beyond
driving earth wants, ''Sweet Home !"
Your arms are lonely, lonely, but the
grass blades of springtime shall glance
in sunshine on the baby grave, birds
twitter love lays over it and Gods sweet
stars keep guard through night silence.
10-11-12!
Lay the lilies close to the baby chin,
purity with the pure. Leave her with
the shadow and dim lamp light. An
gels will watch till the East day shall
kiss the chill sky into warmth.
How the fire crackles and burns in
that home of wealth! Like a baleful
eve from fiery inferno peers here and
there behind the CRATE blackened coal,
while ashes sift noiselessly through
How the old elm tree beats her branches
against the house as shrieking winds
laugh her to scorn! It's a horrible
night for a strong man to sit alone and
think, as memory brings phantom forms
from out the past.
White hands beckon above their graves
in the pitiless rain. Lower sink the
flames, and closer, closer, shadows steal
from their corners. They gather in
patches on ceiling and wall, creep
across the floor or vanish as fire tongue
fickers an instant. Vanish, only to
draw nearer, till they join hands in fan
tastic gloom about you motionless form
on the hearth.
How still it is! Faces of long ago
CLEAN awfully distinct through the dark,
Memory, mind and heart conjure them
from over the sea.
my God! NY Godl Give me back
the loved of my youthr' And but sob
bing winds reply 1T cannot be-"
Ten eleven-twelve! Ring on ye
midnight bells. He heeds ye not. Ring
to the storm that round yolr belfry sur
ges. The dead, the loved and feared,
are with him; speak in tones louder
than thine, though his hungry heart
alone does near.
Listen The tempsst is passing; is
moaning into quiet. AIulky clouds roll
slowly down the horizon, and the fair
morning shines through. Night is 60
ing, going. Daylight dawning-
Morning is scattering her flowers OF
crimson and purple and gold across the
skies. Higher and higher rise billows
of fire f1ecked clouds. Chastened earth
smiles back through her thorns and
tears, and Gods glad day comes down
from His throne in sunshine and per
fumes and Joy.
Grief hideth from day, and sin and
crime and shame shrink into dark places
Midnight is strange, unfa homable;
morning Joyous and free, filing earth
and air, valley and mountain height,
with gladness, stands tiptoe on the
ocean crest, and brings its gifts of light
and love to all the world.-Detrob Frte
Press